


For who could ever learn to love a beast

by Dylanobrienisbatman



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Background Spacekru, Caretaking, Comfort, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Kissing in the Rain, Love Confessions, Mythical Beings & Creatures, Professor Bellamy, Strangers to Lovers, Teaching, Werewolves, grad student echo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-28
Updated: 2019-03-28
Packaged: 2019-12-25 15:38:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18264299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dylanobrienisbatman/pseuds/Dylanobrienisbatman
Summary: Echo meets Bellamy the morning after a full moon, and he is burned into her mind. Freckles and curls and broad shoulders, and his smell. He was intoxicating.It doesn't take long for her to find him again, and their romance is a whirlwind.But her biggest secret might tear them apart.For who, she asked herself, could ever learn to love a beast?





	For who could ever learn to love a beast

The morning after the full moon was always hard.

Her body ached, her bones felt like they were still settling back into the right place, her head was always pounding, and she was always about one bad smell away from vomiting up whatever disgusting thing she had managed to kill and eat the night before.

So Echo went for coffee, and a pastry.

Because coffeeshops were soothing.

The warm atmosphere, the sweet yet earthy smells, the general bustle of pleasant sounds and happy chatter.

She rounded the corner to her local shop and collided with someone trying to walk in the door at the same moment.

She looked up, and was met with pretty brown eyes, freckle flecked skin, and shaggy brown hair.

Oh.

“Sorry. Sorry. I’m running late to work, I wasn’t…” His voice trailed off while they stared at each other. His eyes were mesmerising, and she felt silly almost instantly, and shook it off, staring down at her feet.

“It’s not problem. After you.” She motioned to the door, pulling it open.

“Thanks.” He said, still sounding a little caught off guard.

She smiled, and he walked in, ordering his coffee and running back out the door.

She could still smell him in the space long after he left, something deep and masculine, a musk that seemed to linger, and something intensely floral, like neroli.

The pounding in her head felt a little less, even before she took a sip of her coffee.

She sat in the cafe all morning, reading for her grad school class, sipping on at least 4 double shot lattes, and pretending like the cute freckle faced boy wasn’t on her mind.

She studied at the coffee shop often, and she told herself it was just her trying to get into a better routine when she started trying to show up early. It definitely wasn’t to run into that boy again. It had nothing to do with how his scent made her feel calm.

Definitely wasn’t that.

Stupid werewolf senses. She definitely shouldn’t be remembering his _smell_ so intensely.

Whatever.

The first few days she was unsuccessful, but extremely productive, so, she figured, it couldn’t hurt to keep up this routine.

So she did.

A week in, it paid off.

She showed up, plopped down at what was now her usual table, and was pulling her laptop from her bag to start work on her thesis, when she smelled him.

She looked up, and there he was.

Tall, with broad shoulders, the sleeves of his white button down pushed up past his elbows, his tie as of yet untied hanging from his shoulders, a bag in hand clearly full of papers, navy pants that were perfectly fitted, and nice shiny brown shoes. She drank him, every inch of him, and let the look of him burn into her brain. His shaggy hair seemed even less tame than it had been last time she saw him, and he wore glasses today, which made it all worse, an-

He turned and caught her staring.

She wanted to be bashful, to look down at her book and pretend she wasn’t watching him…

But that wasn’t really Echo’s way.

She stared back, a slight lift in her eyebrow, and a soft smirk across her lips.

He shook his head, just a little, and smiled back at her, before turning back to order his coffee.

She thought that was that, and was opening the document she needed when he sat down at her table, a coffee in a big mug in his hand.

“Hi. I’m Bellamy.” He said, brave. She couldn’t help but grin a little before she looked up.

“Staying a while?”

“My morning class was cancelled, so I have a couple hours to kill.”

“A student?”

“Professor.”

“Oh. What do you teach?” She pried, leaning onto the table towards him.

“So you can ask about me, but I don’t even get a name?” He asked, almost petulant, but in a way that made her want him to tease her more.

“Echo.”

“Nice to meet you, Echo.”

“Nice to meet you too, Bellamy.” She said, softer than she had really meant to, and they fell into a conversation with ease.

He was a History and Classics professor at the university around the corner, and was shocked to hear she was a student there, and in the history department, but they had somehow never crossed paths. She told him about his program, History with a focus in War and Conflict, and her advisor Charmaine Diyoza, an Ex Navy Seal who she was basically obsessed with. He told her about his masters thesis on the Library of Alexandria, and the impact of the lost texts, and they talked.

And talked.

And talked.

Until he checked his watch and realised he was barely going to make it to class if he waited any longer.

In the rush to get his things, she didn’t get a chance to ask for his number, and so she watched him run by the window of the cafe, holding onto her cold cup with the remains of her latte, and sighed.

The next morning, she got up late, and showed up at her usual time, around 11. She plopped into her seat, and went to order her latte.

“It’s been paid for.” The girl behind the counter, whose name tag said Niylah, told her.

“I’m sorry?”

“This morning, some guy, he showed up real early, and asked if you were around. Mentioned you by name. Anyway, you weren’t so he paid for your coffee.”

“Oh… How did h-“

“You come here almost every day. We know your order.”

“Right.” She said, a little sheepish.

“He also asked us to give you this.” Niylah passed over a napkin, with his name, and a phone number scribbled across it.

“Oh.” She tried to hide her grin, but it wasn’t working. She handed over her card. “Does he have a regular order too?” She asked.

“…. Yeeeaahh?” Niylah said, a little skeptical.

“I’ll get his for the morning.”

“You know you could just text him, right.”

“Yeah but this is more fun.” She responded, picking up her latte, and the napkin, and heading back to her table.

The next day, she got up later again, and sent him a text as soon as she woke up.

 **Echo:** _Now we’re even on the coffees._

She was about to put her phone down, but he responded almost instantly.

 **Bellamy:** _I was buying it for you, this wasn’t a quid pro quo thing._

She grinned, biting into her cheek.

 **Echo:** _You could take me to dinner instead._

 **Bellamy:** _Hey… I’m a professor, that would be inappropriate!_

She almost felt bad, almost felt guilty about hitting on him, before he responded again.

 **Bellamy:** _Lucky for you, the rules only bar dating within departments when it comes to graduate level students._

 **Echo:** _Aren’t you in the history department?_

 **Bellamy** : _Technically I’m in the classics department._

 **Echo:** _Do they make that sort of technical exception?_

 **Bellamy:** _Either way, you’re in an entirely separate focus._

 **Echo:** _I mean, it’s not me you have to convince._

 **Bellamy:** _Is tomorrow okay? I know it's a Wednesday, but I'd really like to see you._

 **Echo:** _Definitely._

 **Bellamy:**   _Pick you up at 8._

She spent the rest of the day biting into her cheeks to keep from smiling.

The next day was the New Moon, and it was when her wolf powers were at their lowest, which was good. Less likely she’d have to worry about her reaction to his pheromones. She spent the day just dawdling around. She cleaned her apartment… twice.

She did her laundry that had been piling up.

She worked a little on her thesis, but her mind couldn’t focus.

By 7 she had been ready to go for almost an hour.

She stared at herself in the mirror.

He had seen her, for the first time, the morning after a shift. She had looked…. disheveled at the very best.

Why did she suddenly think he would care.

She looked nice, but she felt a knot in her stomach.

She called Emori.

“Whats up, kitten?” Emori called, a little distracted, from the FaceTime call.

“Tell me I look hot.”

“What?!” That had her attention.

“Tell me my outfit is nice, or whatever. Make me stop being stupid.”

“Well you have to show me first.”

Echo rolled her eyes, lifting the phone to show the full mirror.

Black jeans, a long sleeved black crop top with a slight mock neck, black loafer shoes with gold buckles, her hair down around her shoulders. She stared at herself.

“You look good, what’s wrong.”

“It’s the new moon, you know it makes me weird.”

“Your power is at its weakest point, it’s going to affect your mind.”

“I know.”

“How long have you been at this and you still forget that?”

“Listen… It’s only been four years.”

“Four years is 48 cycles Ec.”

“Shut up. If you were here I’d throw a pillow at you or something.”

“So this guy. Is he…?”

“Nope. No trace of it in his pheromones. He’s just a regular man.”

“Be careful.”

“Always.”

Emori hung up, and the doorbell rang.

She checked her phone.

7:27.

She buzzed him up while she grabbed her purse.

The knock on the door came, but something was… off.

She opened the door to find Roan standing there.

“So you’re going out with a human.” He asked, his voice a low, gruff growl.

“Yes. He’s a professor at my university. He’s nice.”

“Does he know about us?”

“Oh yeah, Roan. Just sprung that one on him right away. Chucked him a text, “I’m a werewolf”, no big deal.” She flung her words at him.

“Our secret is the mos-“

“‘The most important thing to the survival of our pack’ yeah yeah yeah, I know.” She rolled her eyes. She checked her watch. 7:32.

“He will be here soon, so unless you want me to have to explain who you are?”

“How would you explain it, Echo, of Snow Pack?”

She felt her nostrils flare, and the hairs on the back of her neck stand up.

The pack delineations were only used by the Alphas of the pack, to remind them of their place.

She didn’t like being reminded of her place.

“I’m not part of your pack, not anymore. You may be the head of the council, but you know very well that I left your pack after Ontari-“ She took a deep, shaky breath. “I may owe my loyalty to the council, but I don’t have to explain anything to you.”

“Your pack is unnatural. There is no hierarchy.”

“And we like it just fine that way, thanks.” She snarled, baring her teeth. She might not have to change, but on the new moon Roan was weak too, and he wouldn’t be eager for a fight.

He backed out of her doorframe, just slightly, but the look in his eye was clear.

She would be in trouble if Bellamy found out her secret.

She stood in her doorway for a few minutes after Roan left, reeling a little.

She had almost forgotten about the councils rules.

Her pack was technically in the Council of Wolves, like they all were, but they had branched. She, along with her friends Harper, Raven, Emori, and Emori’s boyfriend Murphy, had started their own little pack. They had made their own rules, they had no alphas, they were just a little family. It was easier that way.

But they were still subject to the councils rules, which meant that, while she could date Bellamy, she couldn’t tell him about her.

A giant secret.

She tried to ignore it.

It would only come up on the full moon, once a month. She could handle that… right?

The buzzer rang, 7:42. She smiled, just a little thing, to herself, before she buzzed him up. She could smell him before he knocked, and it was already soothing her nerves.

She opened the door to find him standing there, and took a second to look at him.

She didn’t really care if he saw or not.

A pretty red henley clung perfectly to his shoulders, his hair tousled like always, glasses a little low on his nose, his freckles smattering against his tan skin.

Beautiful. That was the only word.

He smiled.

“Sorry I’m… early.” He was a little sheepish, and she was so endeared.

“I’ve been ready for almost an hour. Don’t apologise.” She wasn’t sure why she told him that, but judging by the fact that he was standing in her doorway 20 minutes early, she needn’t be embarrassed.

She turned to grab her bag that she had put back down when Roan showed up, and when she turned back he was close.

It startled them both, even though he had clearly been coming closer with purpose.

They didn’t move apart, and she couldn’t help but giggle.

“I usually wait until the end of a date.” He whispered, his voice a little raspy.

“Do you have reservations?” She asked, her words coming out shorter and breathier then she meant too.

“No.” He shook his head, his eyes on her lips.

“Good.” She whispered, and leaned in, and kissed him.

It was soft, and gentle, her bottom lip captured between his, his hand cradling her face, the other wrapped around her waist. She let herself run her hand up his arm, and over his shoulder, up into his soft hair at the nape of his neck, and when her nails scratched against the base of his skull he shivered a little.

“I’m not really very hungry yet.” He said his lips still so close she was kissing him through his words.

“It’d be a shame to eat if we aren’t hungry.” She agreed, sliding her other arm that wasn’t in his hair around his waist, lifting the hem of his shirt to feel his warm skin against her hand.

“I agree.”

“Oh good.” She said, laughing through their kisses as they grew needy and long.

He walked her back, lifting his arms to let her pull his shirt over his head, and wrapping them back around her middle, lifting her up to wrap her legs around his waist.

“Bed? Couch?” She asked through heavy breaths.

He grinned through their kiss, pressing her back against a wall, and she felt herself groan in an almost primal way.

Holding her up with just his hips, he lifted her shirt over her head, kissing down her neck as she pulled it from her arms, and then settling her back down so they could both shuck off their pants, quick. He lifted her back up, the warmth of his torso hot against her thighs. They kissed, hot and breathy, and then he made quick work of a hand down her panties, and had her gasping into his mouth. She reached between them, pulling him from his boxer briefs, hot and hard against her hand, feeling him groan and shiver beneath skin. They stayed like that, hands only, hot, fast, needy against the wall in her living room, their dinner clothes scattered across the floor.

She fell apart around two of his fingers, his palm pressing into her clit, and slid down the wall, wrapping her mouth around him, for just a brief minute, before he jerked and groaned above her, his hand in her hair, and she swallowed quick, making a face, before standing back up.

He tucked his dick back into his pants, and then wrapped his arms around her, pulled her flush to him, kissing her so gently she thought she might be breakable. She let herself wrap around him too, soft and easy, and they stood for a minute, a little fucked out and soft.

His stomach growled almost right on queue.

She giggled into his shoulder, looking down at her watch.

“It’s 8:15. Basically right on time.”

“I’d say I planned that but…” He said into her neck, where he had been kissing from her jaw down to her collarbone.

They extricated from one another, tossing clothes back and forth, and walking out the door, hair mussed and lipgloss all but gone.

Fingers laced together the whole way.

Dinner felt easy, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

They shared nachos and ordered desert and found their way to a bar, and had a couple beers, and the conversation never faltered. They were out on the street, standing close, and she didn’t want to go home. Not just yet.

“Theres a bar with an arcade around the corner, they have skeeball.” She said, shrugging.

“I’ve… never played skeeball.” He said, almost like he was ashamed of it.

She almost asked how, or why, but the look in his eye told her that was a question for another time.

“I’m basically a pro, I’ll teach you.”

“Will you go easy on me when we play?”

“Absolutely not.” She said, grinning, and dragged him down the street.

The bar was busy, but the skeeball machines were free. She ordered them some water, and he got fries and some tokens, and she led him to the back where the skeeball was.

“Okay so, you just chuck the ball, underhand, up the ramp, and try to get it into one of the holes. Preferably the 100, but those are basically impossible, but you want the higher numbers. You have 9 balls!”

“Right.” He was smirking at her. “I’m assuming you want to show me how it’s done.”

“You kinda get me, I think.”

He shrugged, sipping on his water, and gestured for her to go.

She got six 100s, a 50, and two 20’s.

She turned, grinning.

“You said 100’s were impossible.” He said, eyes wide.

“For most people.” She was laughing now, giddy. She was competitive, and she loved winning.

“You gonna show me how to do this or….?”

She yanked him from the table, and restarted their machine. He picked on up, and missed entirely, the ball rolling back down.

“Try again.” She urged, gentle.

He missed again.

“Oh no. Looks like you might have to show me how.” He said, winking at her.

Asshole.

She stood up, walking up behind him. She wrapped herself around him, standing so close her whole body was pressed against him. She pressed her cheek against his ear, whispering softly, low, with a slight condescending tone, how to aim, and how to throw, and then she guided his hand with her own, landing him a 40.

She backed up, and he threw…

Missing again.

He turned, smiling coyly, and shrugged.

She wrapped herself around him, and they threw nine balls.

40’s and 50’s the whole time.

“We can’t compete if you can’t play on your own.” She pouted, leaning back against the table. He came up close, bracketing her in with his arms, pressing his palms into the edge of the table.

She brushed her nose against his, resting her forehead on his. She reached up, brushing a hand over his cheek, and down the back of his neck, pulling him in to kiss him a little.

They pulled away, and he checked his watch.

11:37.

“I have class at 9.”

“I have a meeting with Charmaine at 9:30.”

They stood, still so close.

She couldn’t ask him to stay.

Not just yet.

“One more round?” She whispered.

He nodded, kissing her again, before pulling back.

She won, but not by much.

He was a natural.

He walked her home, and kissed her gently on the stoop, turning and walking away.

“See you soon?” She called after him.

“As soon as I can manage.” He responded, walking backwards down the sidewalk, smiling at her.

She flopped down on her bed later and dreamt of his hair, soft against her fingers.

They got serious, fast. She thought about waiting to call, waiting to make new plans, but then she ran into him for the first time ever on campus the next day, and he yanked her around a corner into an empty classroom to kiss her hungrily for a brief minute before making dinner plans for Saturday, and they were off to the races.

She spent weekends with him, barely leaving his house or hers, they spent mornings at their cafe, drinking lattes, feet tangled under the table while they worked. They started going into school together.

In the first month they were together, the only day she didn’t see him was the full moon.

It was about two weeks after their first date, and she had made plans with him for that night, before the morning came and her body felt it.

She made an excuse, that she had eaten something bad from the Italian place they had been to the night before, and that was that.

Once a month, she made an excuse.

Sick.

Food poisoning.

Once it was a thesis assignment.

About six months in, her secret came out. 

The full moon came, a chilly fall evening in November, and she made her excuse, heading out into the woods early like she always did, with Emori and Raven.

Harper liked to shift by herself, and Murphy got angry sometimes on full moons. Today was one of those days. So he had holed himself up in an old cave they found, and made due.

The moon was high overhead, and she felt her body cracking, breaking.

Agony, but also power. That was what she felt.

Her body broke and rebuilt itself, and her white fur wrapped around her. She dug her nails into the dirt beneath her, and howled loud to the sky above. Raven’s bright auburn coat came into her periphery, and she turned, finding Emori, sat back on her hind quarters, her thick black fur shining in the light. She threw her head, and tongues wagging, they raced off.

Running like this was the most incredible feeling in the world. Like she could do anything. She pounded across the ground. She felt her humanity slipping. Thats how it worked. When you first shifted you still felt mostly yourself, but after a while you were fully a wolf, trapped in animalistic form until morning.

She never remembered what happened to her.

She would transform back at probably 3am, when the moon was low enough, and she’d find her way home.

She always did.

The wolf took over, and her mind went dark.

It was actually nice, to be entirely gone from your own consciousness for a while. It was a rest for her mind.

She woke cold, drenched to the bone, naked on the forest floor.

And she could smell him.

Musk and neroli.

And blood.

She shot up, and found him sitting across from her on the forest floor.

He didn’t back away, but he looked cautious.

She was frozen.

She looked him over, and the blood didn’t seem to be coming from him.

To his left, a small animal of some kind was ripped to shreds.

She fought the bile rising in her throat, and fought the creeping thoughts about what he must think.

The thoughts won.

“What are you… Why are…. Bellamy I-“

He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out at first, just staring at her.

“I… I would say I can explain but I doubt you need it.”

“No I don’t think I do.”

“I’m… are you okay? How did you even… I don’t understand?”

“Seems to be going around.”

She wrapped her arms around herself, and he stood, suddenly. He picked up the jacket next to him, wrapping it around her shoulders. She could smell the rain, it would be back. He had no coat.

“You need- I can’t-“

“You’re naked. You need it more than me.” He gestured to his long sleeves and jeans.

“Thank you.” She whispered, shoving her arms through the sleeves and wrapping it tightly around herself. “How are you here?”

“I wanted to go camping. The full moon was supposed to be some kind of special thing tonight, and I just didn’t check the weather. I was getting packed up when the rain started, and then you just… appeared.”

“Did I…”

“No, you just got really close to me, at first. I was terrified, but you just curled up on the ground near me. I had fallen down at first, when you showed up, and you just… laid next to me, put your head on my legs. I was… I don’t know. But then you looked up at me, and… I don’t know.”

“And you stayed?”

“It was only about half an hour before you started to shift. I had no idea what was happening, but your arm shifted and I saw your tattoo, so I just… waited.”

She sat silent, rubbing the small crescent moon on her forearm.

“How long?”

“What?” She asked, pulling back out of her daze.

“How long have you been… this?”

“About four and a half years.” She said, her mouth dry. Was it from the transformation? Or from the anxiety racking through her.

He _knew_.

“How did it start?”

“It just… does. It’s genetic. We don’t really know what triggers it, but some people just… are.”

“All your friends?”

“Not Monty or Jasper. Emori, Murphy, Raven, and Harper are in my Pack.” She felt weird saying it out loud to him. He must think she was insane.

“Are you okay?” The question threw her.

“Am I-… What?”

“It looked painful, when you… came back. Are you okay?”

“Oh.” She felt something in her chest, like the words she’d been holding in for the last few weeks were trying to surge into her throat and break free. “Yes. I’m fine. It is… painful.. yes. But it’s fine. My body is made for it. I’ll feel pretty crummy for the rest of today, but I’m okay.”

“So every month you…”

“I lied. To you.” She said, matter of fact. No point in playing now. “I am not supposed to tell you. The council… you aren’t allowed to know. I’m… I’m so sorry.”

“I understand.” He said, staring at his hands. Rain drops landed on her forehead, she could feel the storm, deep in her bones.

“I understand if you want to… I don’t know. This changes things, I know that.”

“What?” He seemed puzzled by it, which was even more confusing.

She stood, turning into the wind. She could smell Emori and Raven, and their clothes off a little ways. In the distance. She turned to face him again.

“I’m a monster, so if you wanted to not… see me.. anymore. I’d understand.”

He stood up, fast, like he was ready to fight. She felt small, somehow. Vulnerable.

“Echo I…” He seemed to be unable to pick the right words, shaking his head.

“It’s fine. It’s fine.” She breathed out, trying not to let her voice crack under the weight of it.

She _loved_ him. The words were between her lungs now, pressing against her ribcage.

She turned, towards the smell, and took a step, before he grabbed her.

The rain was coming down now, curtains of freezing water between them.

“Echo I-“ He wanted to speak, but her heart couldn’t bear it.

The words pressed themselves into her chest, higher, higher, until they were in her throat, and there was nothing holding them back anymore. They fell from her lips, heavy as the rain, no louder than a whisper to the world, but thunderous to her.

“I love you.”

He stared at her, eyes wide.

A beat.

She felt her chest caving in, ice pouring from the cold air into the cavity where her heart used to be.

It was floating now, in the air between them.

Another beat.

And then he pulled her into him, and kissed her.

She was sure her mouth tasted like dog breath, and she had leaves in her hair, and blood on her skin from who knows what animal, but he kissed her anyway. It wasn’t heavy, or intense.

It was soft.

Gentle.

The rain poured on their faces, their hair plastering to their faces as it drenched them.

But he kept kissing her anyway.

The chill was into her bloodstream now.

But she kept kissing him anyway.

They just kept kissing until their lungs were screaming for air, an ache in her chest different from before, and they broke apart, gasping for breath a little, foreheads pressed together.

“I love you too.” He whispered into the space between them.

Her heart never came back to her chest, but the space was filled now.

She had his own heart now, right there in her chest, beating behind her ribcage.

Keeping her alive.

He lifted her from the ground, bridal style, and carried her towards her clothes. She laid her head on his shoulder, and wrapped her arms around his neck, holding him close. She pulled back on her clothes, and he lifted her onto his back, carrying her to her apartment.

“Can you stay?” She whispered at the door.

“Always.” He whispered back.

He carried her inside, and turned the shower on high, climbing in with her.

Under the warm water, he washed her skin and hair, gentle, easy strokes, cleaning the dirt from beneath her nails and the blood caked into her skin.

He plaited her hair back and helped her pull on a big t-shirt and panties, and crawled into her bed with her.

She woke up in the morning with him wrapped around her, his warmth seeping into her skin.

Her body ached, her bones felt like they were still settling back into the right place, her head was pounding, and she was about one bad smell away from vomiting, just like always.

But this time, he was with her.

He lifted her from bed, and helped her get dressed.

He walked with her, holding her stead, to _their_ coffeeshop. She sat at _their_ table, and he ordered their drinks, coming back with a latte with a dusting of cinnamon on top, in the shape of a crescent moon.

She scoffed, but her heart was so warm.

They sat, feet tangled together under the table, him holding her hands, playing with her fingers, in this place that brought them together.

They read their books, and sipped their coffee.

Her heart was in the wrong chest.

Her ribcage felt stretched, like it was full of something big and important she couldn’t place.

Through the ambient chatter, and the smells of the coffee and pastry, she heard his heartbeat, smelled him.

Neroli and musk.

She lifted his hand, and he looked up, meeting her yes.

She pressed a kiss into his palm, and mouthed ‘I love you’ across the table.

He smiled, picking up his coffee, mouthing it back over the rim of his cup.

Her heart was in the wrong chest, but it felt safe there.

 


End file.
